Bound
by SarahLaDuchesse
Summary: AU Fanfic. With the Kingdoms of Cocoon and Gran Pulse under such tensions, will Princess Claire be able to keep her resolve throughout the annual Tournament with the alluring Gran Pulse knight, Fang, in the castle?   Rated T for now/Ongoing
1. Chapter 1

The light knocking on her door coupled with the sunlight filtering through her window's curtains caused the pinkette's cornflower blue eyes to flicker open. Only as she was sitting up did the door to her bedchamber open. The white mesh canopy hanging around the princess's four-poster bed kept her figure hidden from the maid that entered, who stopped to bow and greet,"Good morning, Princess Claire."

Claire pursed her lips upon the use of her first name, yet did not voice her disapproval. Merely, she drew back the blankets of her bed and stood, pushing a hand back through the asymmetrical spikes of her hair while the curly tendrils fell forward over her left shoulder. The maid, a short woman named Lana with curly dark hair, straightened, smiling brightly as she approached.

Holding out the woman's robe, continuing to chat away,"General Amodar arrived late last night, Princess, and with him brought a handful of strapping young knights to prepare for the tournament. I got a peek at a few of them, and they seem like quite the rowdy bunch. They had the kitchen all up in a fuss about how much they could all eat, despite your Father's reassurances to bring in more supplies-"

The rest of whatever the maid had to say was simply passing in one ear and coming out the other. Claire shrugged on her robe and tied the sash, the brilliant red silk smooth against her toned, alabaster skin. She turned her eyes on Lana and the woman immediately shut her mouth, perky as ever as she smoothed out the front of her apron.

"Run me a bath, Lana. I will be training today," Claire said, evenly, moving to her boudoir and opening up her wardrobe. Lana chirped a quick,"Yes Princess!" before scurrying off, leaving the woman to dress in a beige leather tunic with short cloth trousers underneath and a pair of strapped leather boots. The Princess left her room behind swiftly, her door clicking shut quietly behind her as she stepped in to the long hallway. The cobblestone floors provided a steady sound as her footsteps carried her out along through the castle's corridors.

It was no surprise to Claire to find the knights Lana had mentioned training in the yard at this early hour.

Every year, the Kingdom of Cocoon played host to a grand tournament. Knights from different sectors of the Kingdom would all gather to prove who was the best in different arts of battle. Spirits were high during this tournament, a grand festival being thrown, despite tensions between Cocoon and its neighboring Kingdom, Gran Pulse.

They were said to be a barbaric people, not nearly as civilized or as structured as Cocoon. Claire didn't concern herself with these things, however, setting about her routine despite the other knights about the yard. She continued to ignore the men, even as they stopped to watch her go about the motions of her use with a sword against a young silver-haired squire boy, Hope. He would fetch dummies for her to practice on, and even be her sparring partner, though that never lasted longer than a few seconds at best. He could simply not keep up with the way the Princess strung her attacks together so gracefully, the most lethal of dances.

By the time she was finished, the noontime sun beat down hard on the back of the Princess's neck. She sent Hope to fetch her a drying cloth, returning her sword to the weapon rack in the yard. Lana would no doubt just be finishing with preparing her bath, as the maid knew Claire's schedule off by heart. Hope soon returned, handing the cloth to Claire, beaming brilliantly up at her. She arched a single brow at him, wiping the sweat from her face as he started to suddenly yammer on,"Princess, did you hear? This afternoon, knights from Gran Pulse are to be arriving! Isn't that exciting?"

She frowned. A tactical move. See what both Kingdom's military forces were capable of under the facade of a good-natured tournament.

"No, I hadn't heard that," Claire replied, slinging the cloth casually over her shoulder and beginning to walk inside the castle's main doors. "You're excused now, Hope. Please, tend to the men."

"Yes Princess!" And with another great grin, the boy was off.

The pinkette shook her head. She knew he meant well... But alas, she had more pressing concerns to worry about. For instance; how was she going to get clean and prepare in time for lunch? She also wanted to stop by the smithy later this evening to see how her armor was coming along. After much protest from her Father and Mother, Claire had finally convinced them to allow her to join in on the sporting events. She'd been training her entire life in swordplay, whereas the younger Princess, Serah, favored archery. Due to this allowance, the two Farron sisters would both be participating in the tournament.

She knew that King Farron was merely entertaining his two daughters with this sentiment, and Serah thought it would be great fun, but Claire? Well, she was in this to win.

After her bath and meal, she slipped away from the hustle and bustle of the castle and its rowdy new guests to the gardens with a book tucked under her arm. Fountains spouted clear water that created a soft lull of splashing about the green foliage and brightly colored flowers. Taking a seat on a stone bench in the shade of a tree, Claire sat back in a simple white summer dress, the breeze causing her freshly washed hair to tickle her cheeks.

"Strawberries?"

Being so immersed in her book, she'd somehow not been able to hear the approach of one knight. He must have been strolling the grounds, too- though that voice, it held such a throaty timbre, rolling with an unfamiliar accent that made a faint tingle run up her spine, it was far from masculine. Turning her head, Claire ended up looking in to piercing jade eyes, the sharp features both wild and beautiful. Which was really the only way to explain who stood beside her bench, supposedly catching the scent of her shampoo on the wind.

Standing taller than herself, the tanned woman wore a pair of black armbands with colorful, tribal bangles about her left wrist, the plate and chainmail armor both simple and accessible in design. It must have been forged with mobility in mind rather than protection, Claire could see no other reason why one's arms and legs would be so bare, though a blue sarong that reached mid-calf did couple the short chainmail skirt, yet the muscle definition was still very easy to see. A crazy dark mane of hair fell about her shoulders, poorly held back with a piece of twine, and a large black tattoo covered her upper left arm.

This woman was a knight, though not from Cocoon.

Claire frowned.

"Yes, strawberries," she said calmly, closing her book in her lap and setting it aside, sitting up a little straighter with one leg crossed over the other. "Though why that is any of your concern is beyond me."

A smirk pulled at the corner of the tanned woman's lips, and she reached a hand out, placing it on the bark of the tree the pinkette sat underneath, her other going on to her hip which held no sword. The spearhead of a lance peeked over her shoulder at the princess as the woman said,"I meant no offense by it, milady." She cleared her throat, obviously amused, a smile slipping its way across her face,"I am Fang of the Yun Clan, from the village of Oerba within the Kingdom of Gran Pulse. Oerba Yun Fang, for short."

She came off the tree, slowly circling around in front of Claire, winking at her as she concluded,"But please, call me Fang."

The princess blinked slowly once, not at all dumbfounded, but moreso irritated with this Knight's behavior towards her. There could really only be one explanation for such a brazen attitude - this woman simply didn't know who she was. She probably thought she was some other chambermaid or lady in waiting residing in the castle. Resisting the urge to roll her eyes, Claire cleared her throat instead, listening a moment to the wind that rustled the leaves overhead.

She watched in amusement at the shocked expression that overcame Fang's face as she replied,"I am Claire Farron. A pleasure to meet you."


	2. Chapter 2

She watched the knight take a step back in surprise, her jaw dropping only for a moment before Fang shut her mouth and folded her arms across her chest. Realization had slapped her in the face it seemed, though the brunette quickly recovered, chuckling even! This made a light frown tug at the corner of Claire's mouth, not seeing how this was _funny_ to be completely honest.

"Princess Claire, huh?" Fang laughed, shaking her head, causing a few of those stray locks of dark hair to fall over her eyes,"I've heard about you..."

The pinkette arched a single brow at the other woman in curiosity, more skeptical and accusatory than genuinely concerned. "Oh? And what have you heard then, Oerba Yun Fang?" She watched Fang unfold her arms, placing a hand on her hip again and the other back on the tree, leaning over her now, looming with this amused, confident smirk playing over her features.

"Not that much, really. Just that you're not as sheltered as they all say. You fight, too, and fiercely at that, with all the grace expected of a Princess but the ferocity of a storm, faster than lightning." For some reason, the woman's accent made Claire sit that much stiller. Blue eyes steeled. Lips pressed in to a hard line and her brow creased ever so slightly before the woman stood briskly, tucking her book under her arm and creating some distance between herself as the Knight stepped back once more upon her rising.

Out of the shade of the tree, Claire could swear she saw strands of red highlighting the Gran Pulsian's dark tresses. She licked her lips then, lifting her chin and saying,"Sometimes rumors run wild. Don't let faulty information distract you from your goals." With that, she pushed past the knight, her bare feet not making any sound on the stone pathways of the garden as she headed for the atrium. To her dismay, she could hear the light clinking of armor as Fang followed.

"I also hear," Fang started, falling in to step beside her,"That you're participating in the tournament this year alongside your sister, the other Princess Farron." She snorted. "How do you think you'll do, really?"

Claire felt a rush of anger flare up in her belly, though her expression remained as stone cold as ever. This was a Gran Pulsian, after all. She wouldn't expect her to truly understand her motives, her desire to fight, to prove herself able and willing to protect others, whether it be diplomatic or otherwise. Pushing open the large double doors to the castle's library to return her book to one of the many shelves, she replied,"I plan to win, if that's what you're asking."

Fang stalled behind her in the doorway, the Oerban never having seen so many books in one place her entire life. She looked up at the high ceiling in awe, the walls lined with shelves that reached just as far, making aisles, all filled with tomes and books an novels and scrolls and documents. The tanned woman swallowed hard, giving herself a shake and jogging after the Princess to catch up.

"Win, huh? Right... And I'm a two-headed Behemoth with wings," she laughed, once at Claire's side just as the pinkette shoved the book back in the place she'd found it from. She stopped her chortling as icy eyes locked menacingly on to hers a moment, the monarch's patience taking a light blow. She knew this woman was probably just following her about to pry information about the Kingdom from her, or perhaps even assassinate her if you wanted to be dramatic, yet no questions about the Kingdom itself were emerging, so she was being nothing but a bother for now.

She clicked her tongue in annoyance, saying,"Whatever you are, leave me alone. You should be with the other Gran Pulsian knights, not tagging after me like some lost puppy." Claire left the library behind, heading now for her bedchamber to find something more suitable to wear in public. To Fang, this was like getting a free tour aside from where she'd be sleeping and eating, replying,"I don't want to be around them right now. They're good men, but a girl needs a breather now and then, yeah?"

Turning down a corridor, Claire could vaguely understand what she meant. That irked her. She was not one to converse with anyone this long, let alone some impertinent knight. Of the other Kingdom's forces, no less! So she felt no remorse in cutting Fang's next sentence off by slamming her bedchamber's door shut behind herself, already on her way over to her boudoir. Glad to be rid of the cumbersome conversationalist, she dressed in a brilliant red tunic with a pair of white cotton trousers tucked in to her boots. Taking a moment, she traced her fingers over the two leather bands strapped around her right bicep, one being a trademark accessory for the Farron family.

She sighed, then, going to her door and finding that the Gran Pulsian was nowhere to be seen when she stepped out in to the hall. Feeling a twinge of satisfaction, she drew a cloak and satchel around her shoulders, deciding it time to stop by the Blacksmith's to see how her armor was coming along. She placed a hand over the hilt of the sword she'd strapped to her belt before setting off.

It wasn't unheard of for the eldest of the two Farron Princesses to leave the castle grounds and go mingle about the commoners in the marketplace. Many learned very quickly that Claire could take care of herself. No pickpocket was slick enough to steal from her without being detected, no scammer coy enough to fool her, and no thug strong or skilled enough to best her in a fight, be it with their fists or any other weapons, especially when she had her sword on her hip.

Arriving at the stables along the far east side of the castle, Claire nodded at the Stable Master before retrieving and saddling her trusty steed, a white stallion with a sandy colored mane and tail, greeting him,"Hello Odin." The horse whinnied in response, bumping her shoulder with his nose and shaking his head, making her smile for but a heartbeat before she led him by the reigns outside of the stables. Mounting the horse, she slipped on a pair of fingerless leather riding gloves and gripped his reigns, and with a gentle dig of her heel in to his side the horse started forward at a hearty gallop.

Claire rode past the castle gates, giving the knights guarding it a wave and reassurance she'd return before nightfall (mostly so if her sister asked, Serah wouldn't worry), guiding Odin down along the cobblestone street in to the city around it; the City of Eden, the capital of Cocoon Kingdom. Slowing Odin to a trot as she came upon the bustle of people in the marketplace, the sea of people parted before her horse. He was a big, powerful beast, bred for war yet here he was, escorting a princess through a marketplace. Granted, Claire was no ordinary princess.

Stopping in front of the smithy's, she dismounted and slid Odin's reigns around a post outside before entering the forge. Heat instantly washed over her as she stepped inside, and the steady banging of a hammer striking heated metal, the hiss of steam and the roar of the hearth filled her ears. A young boy wearing a pair of overalls with chocolate skin and dark curly hair in a puff atop his head greeted her cheerily,"Hello and welcome to the Katzroy smithy!"

Claire allowed him a gentle smile, replying,"Hello Dajh. I was wondering if your father was about, I wanted to ask about my order." Dajh lit up and chirped,"Gimme one second!" before hurrying off in to the backrooms to no doubt look for Sazh. The other workers she barely knew, apprentices under Sazh's wing, given jobs with the upcoming tournament to deal with the sudden influx of orders. She'd paid handsomely for her armor weeks prior, and would periodically stop by and check on the progress. Dajh shortly returned, tugging eagerly on his father's hand, eliciting amused yet tired-sounding chuckles from the middle-aged man.

Sazh wore a sleeveless white cotton shirt which was tucked in to his dark trousers, his boots dusty and black with soot. He rubbed his gloved hands together, nodding at the princess before gesturing to the door from where he'd come from. "Your armor's ready, Princess."


	3. Chapter 3

To say that the plate armor fit her perfectly would be an understatement. Sazh had done a marvelous job crafting this piece of work; sturdy, yet light. Enabling mobility, but protecting her greatly. The thigh-high greaves and boots clanked as Claire took a light walk about the back room, having changed in to the armor rather quickly. The breastplate and bodice were flexible, solid, the pauldrons sitting about her shoulders so comfortably she could shrug and such without any discomfort. She flexed her fists in the gloves of her gauntlets, a light shield coupled on to her left forearm. With her sword on her hip, the princess drew the blade in her right hand, exhaling slowly, listening to the slow scrape of steel against its scabbard.

"Well? What d'you think?" Sazh asked, poking his head in through the doorway after lightly knocking on the frame once. Claire turned to face him, the half-skirt of decorative white feathers gently swaying with the motion along with the purple velvet material that provided modest cover. If the blacksmith didn't know any better, he could have sworn she was smiling before she said,"It's marvelous, Sazh. Thank you. Perfect for the tournament." If anything aside from the protection this gold-trimmed armor provided, it was a sense of empowerment.

Of course, she couldn't just return to the castle in this!

Sazh made a noise of sudden understanding as she steadied a warning look his way. He held up his hands and backed out again, leaving the woman to change back in to the clothes she'd arrived in. Once she'd dressed in to clothes fit for going about the public once more, she returned her armor to the trunk provided, its hinges creaking slightly as she shut it. The pinkette stepped back in to the forge, the sounds of work filling the air still. She spotted Sazh behind the front desk, his son sitting upon its edge, snacking away happily on an apple. Seeing Claire, Dajh grinned.

Sazh stepped out from behind the desk, leaving the workers to continue as he gestured for the princess to follow, saying as he went,"It's a good thing you ordered your armor so early on though. With the Tournament, things are just getting crazy. Too much for these old bones to handle, I tell you..." Yet he had no trouble helping Claire hitch a small carrying cart to Odin and carry the trunk out, loading it on to the cart and securing the chest.

That was when Claire mounted the stallion, settling comfortably and glancing back wearily once more at the cart, mentally noting to not push Odin to anything faster than a smart trot. Thanking Sazh and waving lightly, she guided the horse forward through the marketplace once more, and once more people moved out of the way as they made their way back the way they came.

Leaving the marketplace behind, the usually highstrung Princess was actually granted a brief respite. The warm Summer's breeze carried the light scent of the wildflowers that grew along the road. It was a comfort to take in a deep breath, and not have a care in the world for just five seconds. That feeling quickly faded as the castle gates came in to view, and the knights let her through. Taking Odin back to the stables, Claire dismounted and unhitched the cart, removing the stallions saddle before bringing the cart back out and deciding to simply carry the chest up to her bedchamber from there.

The pinkette reached a hand down, gripping on to one of the rungs in the side of the armor trunk, hefting it a moment before determining she would need someone's help. This bothered her. Frowning, Claire racked her brain for someone she could ask and not feel like she owed them over it. She hated, rather loathed asking for aid in any task, especially physical trials. Perhaps Hope? She nearly snorted to herself for even thinking of the Squire, he would be too weak. Maybe a knight? But which one...

The answer was dropped in her lap.

"Need a little help there?" an accented voice cut through her thoughts, causing the princess to look up. Her frown dropped from her face, a blank expression taking its place as Claire set eyes on Oerba Yun Fang for the second time that day. She must have changed out of her armor and in to the flowing blue tribal garb, the shade and ornate designs accenting her tanned skin and seeming to draw out every shadow, the article only half covering her stomach with some sort black chest wrap underneath. Two fur belts were sewn in to the belt that hung loosely about curvaceous hips, and Etro even more of those legs were visible with this outfit.

Claire felt her throat go dry for a moment.

Licking her lips, she steeled her nerves and replied tartly,"Not from you," even as the Gran Pulse knight strode over and took hold of the second rung. "What's in here anyway?" Fang asked, and with impressive strength, hauled the other end of the trunk up in her hold. Claire couldn't help but do the same, her frown slowly returning, her nerves only being further grated in the way the other woman so carelessly gestured with her free hand for her to lead the way.

It was one way to get help, at least. The princess started to walk, gripping her rung tightly and determined to not show the effort she was putting in as the knight seemed to be lifting the armor trunk so easily. "My armor," Claire then said after a few long heartbeats of silence, not knowing what possessed her to entertain the Gran Pulsian.

"For the Tournament?"

"Yes."

Silence fell between the two once more, entering the castle through the main doors together and starting to climb the grand staircase to the upper levels where the bedchambers of the royal family were. Turning down the hallway that led to her own room, it dawned on the princess where exactly she was taking this knight. This realization must have flickered across her face, because she heard a snort to her left that drew her attention over to Fang, who was smirking at her, but staring so intently with those jade eyes it made her pause.

"What?" the pinkette demanded, ignoring the ache building in her shoulder from hauling the chest all this way. The knight shook her head, answering with a laugh in her voice,"Nothing, I just thought that a princess woul be more wary of taking foreign visitors to her bedroom." She arched a thin brow at her, causing Claire to practically seethe with distaste. Though the intrigue she felt flared within, making her icy glare soften somewhat as she stopped in front of the door to her bedchamber. Carefully leaning down, Fang caught on and did the same, the two women setting the chest down on the floor so carefully it barely clattered.

"Don't get cocky." Her statement seemed to surprise the tanned woman for a moment, before her gaze turned amused once more, even as Claire added,"You're just helping me carry something. That's not exactly inviting you over whenever you please." The pinkette pushed the door open and took up the trunk's rung once more. Fang hesitated before following suit, and they carried it inside. Claire was in no distress over the state of her bedchamber. It was orderly and pristine as always, the canopied four-poster bed made, the headboard against the wall.

A writing desk was near the window, a few papers and a leather bound journal adorning its surface, quill and inkwell set aside and the chair pushed in. A shelf sat along the far wall, and the archway to her boudoir and wardrobe veered off to the left once inside. The princess led the way over to an unoccupied corner of her room, and indicated to the Gran Pulsian to put the chest down. There was no missing the way Fang looked around appreciatively at the spacious rooming, the way her eyes lingered for just an extra second longer over every detail.

"Thank you," Claire said, folding her arms across her chest as she seemed to snap the knight out of the little reverie she was getting herself in to. Fang grinned, scratching the back of her head as she rolled her weight on to her back leg, her free hand resting on her hip.

"Not a problem, Sunshine," she said, casting her a quick wink,"If y'ever need any more help, just say so."

"Tch. I don't see that happening," Claire said with a shake of her head, gesturing to the door that still hung open. She almost immediately regretted her sharp tone at the look of dejection that flitted across the other woman's face, but it was gone too quick for her to be sure. Fang pressed.

"So what do princesses do for fun, anyhow?" she asked, moving from her spot but not in the direction that Claire had offered, instead beginning to pace leisurely about the room, jade orbs soaking in the details of her room. It made her anger burn up, threatening as it usually did, but much more powerful than usual. Was it really even anger?

"If you're asking what I do in my spare time," Claire replied, striding after her and catching her forearm just as Fang reached out to pick up the journal on her desk,"then I practice in the yard."

The brunette blinked at her.

"You mean... like, fighting?"

Claire nodded.

"Yes, fighting."

A smirk so slowly curled those lips, the Gran Pulsian's eyes locking on to cornflower blues.

"Show me."


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: **This took a little longer to write than the others! Sorry for not updating in so long, but hopefully this chapter makes up for it! Please, enjoy and r/r!

-x-x-x-

The whistle of air swishing past her ear was unmistakeable as Claire ducked under another powerful blow, the lance's spearhead not able to connect with its limber target. The princess danced back on light toes, feeling a bead of sweat slide down the side of her face as her breathing came hard through her nose. The other knights in the yard cheered about as the Oerban steadied her lance again, standing already once more in a stance that signalled she was ready to keep going.

After Fang's little request for a duel, the two women had gone right out to the training yard. Seeing as it was rather late in the evening, the setting sun casting a pinkish hue to the sky, not many men were actually training still. Mostly idling about, chatting, comparing weapons, some Oerban and some Cocoonian. It was a strangely calm atmosphere considering the electric tensions between the two Kingdoms but, as it was, the Oerbans had to know they were in Cocoon territory here and if anything started they'd be cut down without a second thought.

Though this was a friendly spar, not a reckless brawl, even if the sheer power Claire could tell behind every swing of that bladed staff was incredible.

"Come on, Sunshine!" Fang laughed, though she knew her own breath was coming short, just the slight heaving of her shoulders the pinkette could make out with each pant. Cornflower blue eyes blinked, teeth gritting behind a tightly shut mouth. She had no patience for taunting, but reminded herself with ease, _Keep a cool head_. When she didn't take the bait, the knight shrugged and ran forward. How she never seemed to trip on the low hanging tribal sari was a mystery to Claire, even as she planted her feet to defend and hopefully counter.

Holding up her sword, the young monarch grunted in both shock and effort when she blocked the lance blow to her side, her knees nearly buckling and every muscle in her body buzzing with the weight she felt behind the strike. Claire saw it, though, the opening she needed. Breaking away, she redirected Fang's lance off to the side and slid her sword forward, stepping in with her shoulder jutting forward to make some breathing room. As she expected, Fang started to move back out of the way of her rather ungraceful charge, but what she hadn't been expecting was the sweep of the flat of the princess's sword behind her knees.

The Oerban knight released a gasp that was swiftly silenced with the air swooshing from her lungs when her back hit the ground. After a moment of dazed blinknig, she rolled backwards - a movement that exposed working tan leg muscles - to get back up to her feet. Shaking stars from her head, she managed to even say with a grin to the woman who'd been silent since they started this little scuffle,"Your fighting's good, but way too fancy!" Perhaps a little odd to say when she flourished her lance with a flick of her wrist, but either way she was ready to rumble.

Claire couldn't believe this. Were Oerban knights' training regimen really so rigorous that one of their common knights could keep up with her? They'd been neck and neck in this struggle for who knows how long now, with little pulls and teeters here and there but they were, as much as she hated to admit it... equals. If not equals then certainly close to it. And that irked her to no end. She shifted her weight on to her forward foot, ready to continue, when suddenly there was a break in their audience and a shorter redheaded girl sporting pigtails, a sunset orange cloth top, and a skirt paired with a fur pelt called,"Wait, please!"

A look of confusion flickered across Claire's face as the girl with a rather chirpy voice stumbled out in between the two women, though they were already a few good meters apart. The pinkette's eyes duly noted the annoyed look crossing Fang's features, but it was muted, somehow. A soft pinch of displeasure before relaxing, the knight chuckling and straightening out of her stance, groaning in mock-scolding,"Vanille..."

From first glance, Claire could tell this girl was Oerban. Her attire said it all, what with the beads around her neck and down her front and some down her back even. She cast the princess an apologetic look with eyes a slightly lighter shade of green than those of the knight before turning them on Fang and huffing, saying,"I told you not to get in to trouble! Why couldn't you listen to me just once? Ohh... now you're all dirty, too!"

Fang let her lance end rest in the dirt, the staff leaned casually against her shoulder with an arm draped lazily around it. The knight sighed, insisting,"I didn't get in to any trouble! Just found someone to spar with. Don't you worry your little ginger head about me." The girl named Vanille puffed up her cheeks, putting her hands on her hips. Seeing as the fight was rather obviously over at this point, the men watching dispersed in grumbles and mutters, either returning to what they were doing before or moving on to busy themselves with something else no that the initial entertainment had passed.

Claire clicked her tongue, then, sheathing her blade and then asking, speaking up for the first time since the fight began,"And who are you? I wasn't aware Oerban civillians were allowed on castle grounds..." Vanille turned to look at her, Fang's eyes following suit as the young redhead who couldn't be older than 18 suddenly flushed a rather embarrassed shade of pink.

"Oh! I'm- I'm Oerba Dia Vanille. I'm not a civillian. I came with the knights -" Seeing the skeptical arch of Claire's brow she swiftly added "- but not to fight in the tournament! I'm just a healer. And a friend of Fang's."

The eldest Farron daughter took in a slow, deep breath, blowing it out quietly as she could. Oerbans... Just loved shoving their noses in to other people's business, didn't they? She opened her mouth to speak but was interrupted by her squire suddenly appearing, trotting out in to the yard to her side with a breathless,"Princess Claire!" He was flushed and breathing heavy from running, bent over with his hands on his knees. Claire shifted slightly away from him, glancing towards the two foreigners with an arched brow. Clearing her throat however, she asked gently,"What is it, Hope?"

"Th-The welcoming dinner," he gasped, straightening up with some effort,"In the mess hall... It's starting soon." The silver-haired teen only blinked when she sighed and handed him the sheathed sword.

"Thank you, Hope." Though she wouldn't be attending... "Please, take our guests to dinner." Though she didn't look over this time, she could feel the tanned woman's eyes on her as she turned on her heel and lightly jogged up the steps, pushing the large wooden double doors open to return swiftly inside. She could hear the bustle in the distance of the hallways, the castle staff preparing the mess hall for this dinner. She was expected to be there to greet their Oerban visitors that would be staying in the castle, but decided one Farron sister would be more than enough.

Claire ducked down a hall to her right, taking the long way about to the stairs and up to her room, avoiding everyone she could. By the time she arrived in her bedchamber she could see it had already gotten dark out. Strolling over to her curtains, she gripped the drapes gently, staring out her window to see the training yard empty. Feeling a satisfied twitch at the corners of her lips, she drew the curtains shut before turning her back and striding over to her bed. She sat and took off her boots, before lifting her tunic off above her head and shimmying out of her trousers.

Huffing, the princess laid back atop her lavish bed covers still in her undershirt. She felt messy and disshelved, frowning as the pinkette rolled over on to her stomach just to pull herself up and nestle in underneath the warm blankets that were so soothing to her aching muscles. Claire was absolutely spent, and there was something oddly satisfying about being genuinely exausted. It certainly helped in lulling her in to a deep slumber that lasted her until the late morning when Lana came in to wake her. The chipper maid's voice and mannerisms quickly reminded her of the Oerban healer from the night before that had broken up her and the knight's spar.

They'd been so evenly matched...

Claire skipped her morning training, excusing Hope from his duties for the day and took her bath in peace. She didn't go wandering about the gardens either, and instead slipped off to a dark corner of the castle's library where no one would bother her. With all the new visitors having arrived yesterday, the staff were bound to be busy keeping up with their requests and the overall business of everyone would mean they wouldn't have time to worry about one lone princess who could take care of herself in her own home.

So of course, she was more than surprised when a certain redheaded healer sat down across from her at the table she was reading at, greeting her with a happy little "Good morning, Princess Farron!" Vanille certainly was a bouncy character, smiling brightly, though it turned apologetic,"I'm sorry about yesterday... I really did tell Fang not to get in to anything but she just had to pick a fight." Claire felt her jaw tighten slightly at the mention of the cocky knight's name, though she was also reminded of the buzz she felt blocking her blows. She placed her book down on the table and leaned back in her chair, folding her arms across her chest.

"It's alright. Vanille, was it..?" she asked, tipping her head to the side. Briefly catching her lower lip between her teeth, her curiosity got the best of her and she finally caved simply by looking at the bright young healer who seemed so eager to simply be. "What can you tell me about Oerban knights?"


	5. Chapter 5

Claire paced back and forth in the closed off room of the Colliseum, her armor clanking gently with every step. The roar of the crowd was dulled here, muffled by the stone and wood separating her and the stadium where a fight was already going on. Citizens from both kingdoms were spectating a fight that not doubt Oerba Yun Fang was winning. Probably toying with the Cocoonian knight she was facing, judging by the 'ooh's and 'aah's that reached the eldest Farron princess's ears even from the preparation room. She toyed with the hilt of her sheathed blade, swallowing thickly.

She'd be fighting next. It was funny to think that, just a few days ago, she couldn't wait for the Grand Tournament to start and now she was dreading her first fight. She'd done battle with Eden's knights in sparring matches and was certainly exceptional in the fitness department. Her stamina was top-knotch and she'd refined her fighting style to an art. She shouldn't have any problems climbing the ranks in the Tournament, so why was she so nervous?

Because she wouldn't be fighting Cocoonian knights, for the most part. She'd be fighting mostly Gran Pulsians. Oerbans. An Oerban. Fang was too good to lose early on in the Tournament, so they'd no doubt be crossing paths at one point or another as not many knights from either side entered the combat division. It was usually the most dangerous. They'd be busy throwing their lives away in battle soon enough if a war really did break out.

A depressing thought that churned her already nervous stomach, but Claire took a deep breath, and thought back to her conversation with Vanille and the challenge it had led to.

...

-x-x-x-

...

"Oerban knights? Or just Fang?" the redheaded healer asked with a knowing smile curving her lips. She propped her elbows up on the desk between them, creating a steeple with her laced fingers and resting her chin on her knuckles to gaze across at the pinkette with green eyes that were suddenly too similar to Oerba Yun Fang's. Claire just couldn't bring herself to find it aggravating, as much as she thought it should be.

"Oerban Knights," she clarified with a nod of her head,"I will be fighting in the Grand Tournament and really have little knowledge of them. Like their training regimes, for instance, and the weapons they most commonly use." The healer then giggled, making her frown, which only seemed to amuse her even more. Claire really couldn't fool her, huh? Acting as if she was curious about the Oerban breed of Gran Pulsian knights rather than any one in particular. It was a hopeless, feeble attempt at being subtle, but then again Claire wanted direct answers so she might as well be direct. "Alright, alright. What can you tell me about Yun Fang?"

"Well firstly, she likes being called just Fang," Vanille informed her with a bubbly little bounce in her seat, grin broadening. She gestured with her hand then as she added, tipping her head to one side,"and she's not really what you'd call your common knight, so comparing her to the other Oerbans wouldn't be fair! She's really one of the only ones that use a lance, and she's captain of the dragoons." The shock that just barely flickered across Claire's face seemed to be long enough for Vanille to catch her surprise. Dragons lived in Gran Pulsian territory, so that was a war asset Cocoon couldn't harness without breaking treaties. She really shouldn't have been surprised they had a military branch geared to _riding_ the damn things. Vanille's lips curved in to a teasing smile, and she continued,"She seems rather ineterested in you, Princess. Truth be told, she asked me to find out more about you."

That was when Claire's expression darkened. She should've known. Once her status as royalty was confirmed, the knight became that much more curious about her. During a time when it would seem like friendly, good-spirited fun under the guise of this Tournament, learn about the eldest Farron sister- what about Serah? She had yet to really converse with her sister, who was much less versed than herself in the art of war and how enemies acted. Learn the monarchy's weaknesses from the inside out. When the Tournament is over, return home and report it to their own rulers and then attack.

The pinkette seethed, standing up from her seat with a clatter that caused the young Oerban healer to jump and the smile fall clean off her face. Cerulean orbs hardened, icing over as she glared fierce shards at Vanille, but knowing it wasn't the girl's fault, that it was this Fang's fault for sending this innocent to gouge information out of the princess. She clicked her tongue, marching past the desk and going towards the library's double doors just as Vanille seemed to realize how what she had said must have sounded. The pinkette only paused when she herself realized that was almost exactly what she'd been rooting about for herself, information on the enemy.

"Princess, wait!" she heard the Oerban healer plead, but Claire had already turned down the hall. She had her eyes narrowed, unable to wait any lnger for the Tournament. She had to work some steam off, and that meant training, practicing in her armor to get a good feel of how she could move in it. She'd find Hope, or maybe that castle guard Serah seemed so interested in, Snow. Sure, she could beat him up for a few hours, it'd be a wonderful stress release as he frequently got on her nerves almost as much as Fang did!

Her frustrated train of thought was interrupted, however, when she almost bowled right in to the very woman she was up in a fuss about.

"Oh, Claire. Sorry there Sunshine, didn't see you. Hey, do you know where Vanille is? She went off somewhere and now I can't find her-"

Damn her. Damn Fang and her accent that set Claire so hard on edge. Damn her and her sharp, exotic features. Damn her gorgeous bronze skin and vibrant emerald eyes that always seemed to dance with mischief. Damn her and that smirk she wore, so lazy and easy-going only because she was so sure of herself, and especially damn her for plaguing the pinkette's mind since arriving.

The sound of the resonating slap in the face echoed down the stone walls of the hall, followed by a long pause. Claire's cheeks had taken on an angry pink hue, and one of Fang's was quickly turning red where her palm had connected. The Dragoon turned her head to look wide-eyed at the usually composed princess for a moment, before a smirk that only caused her rage to boil hotter curved fine lips. Her teeth showed, and with a pitch in her gut, Claire realized she wasn't smiling anymore, but baring her teeth at her, speaking through a clenched jaw and doing amazingly well in otherwise keeping her cool.

"What was that for, Sunshine? If you want to go at it again, all you had to do was ask," Fang said slowly, evenly, partially narrowing jade eyes as they bore in to icy sky-blues. Claire glared back, clicking her tongue and shouldering her way past her. "Hey!" the Oerban called, turning to follow her, reaching out and grabbing Farron's bicep, which caused her to whp around and yank her arm free.

"Don't touch me," she snarled, though her voice never raised higher. Claire didn't have to yell to get her anger across. Fang stiffened, dropping her hand to her side in a lightly clenched fist. "You were trying to use me, weren't you?" The shock that flashed across the taller woman's face was quickly replaced by curiosity, cocking her head to the side.

"What the Hell have you that idea?" she asked, folding her arms across her chest, brow furrowing.

"Vanille said-"

"Vanille? Oh, Etro... what did she tell you?"

"She told me you wanted to know about me," she said, suddenly feeling rather deflated, her anger slowly dissipating as she realized that maybe, just maybe, she'd taken the Healer's words the wrong way, and Fang's intentions.

"And since when is being curious about someone a crime?" the knight snorted, relaxing quickly. She reached up and rubbed her face with the heel of her palm, opening and closing her mouth a bit to flex her jaw which was quickly growing sore.

"We're from two Kingdoms on the verge of war with each other and you're acting friendly with me. What am I supposed to think?" the princess snapped, placing her hands on her hips as her tempter flared again. That made Fang hesitate. It finally seemed to sink in where the monarch might be coming from, making the knight frown, brow furrowing as she took a slow, deep breath, mulling her response over in her head for once.

"I didn't know you were one of the princesses when I saw you in the garden," she assured her, though when seeing Claire's skeptical look, raised her hands defensively,"Really! I didn't! And I guess I'm just curious. Last I checked, princesses don't fight at all, let alone like you do. I've never seen anyone move that way on the battlefield." The pinkette wasn't exactly sure how to react to that, opening her mouth to say something else but no words came out. She gaped a moment at the knight, before her mouth formed a hard line and she swallowed. What was with this frustration?

Fang then added,"I'm excited to see you fight in the Tournament. If you survive, I'll gladly kick your royal ass, _Sunshine_."

That sparked Claire's interest, and the princess gathered herself, putting up her cold walls once more and asking,"Is that a challenge, _Fang_?"

The raven-haired huntress smirked. "It's a damn promise."

...

-x-x-x-

...

An uproar from the crowd brought Claire back in to focus, and she stopped her pacing, placing a gently closed fist against the wall. Fang had won her match, she knew, and now she had to go out there and win her own. She withdrew in to herself, becoming stoic as a soldier, finer tuned than any trained knight and more than ready for this fight. All she had to do was win.

"Princess? It's time for your fight," Hope's voice drifted to her ears, the squire poking his head in to the waiting room and smiling reassuringly. She nodded sternly at him, having calmed her nerves in her reminiscing. Tightening her grip on the hilt of her blade, she adjusted the straps of her shield before stepping out in to the short hall that led out in to the colliseum. She squinted against the sudden light, the sun high in the sky, and nearly went deaf from the cheering that filled the air. Hope wished her luck before retreating back inside, shutting the gate behind him, ultimately locking Claire in the large arena with her opponent.

He was a fit man. She guessed early twenties, wielding dual scimitars and wearing a protective leather vest but his arms and shoulders were bare aside from a pair of bracers around his forearms, revealing finely toned biceps and strong hands. Dark trousers were accompanied by a brightly colored fauld with Gran Pulsian text lacing through its hem, probably stating his village name. From what Claire knew of the Pulsian alphabet, it said "Paddra". The pinkette drew her sword, and the two stood facing each other some ten meters apart.

She listened as the announcer started, projecting his voice around the colliseum using amplification magic, something reserved especially for the Tournament.

"This fight is going to be a special one, folks! Asael of the Vash clan from the Paddraen settlement will be squaring off against on of Cocoon's own princesses, Claire Farron!"

Screams and hoots from all around mounted once more, and Claire saw Asael grow rather pale then. He gulped, dropping in to a crouched stance and drawing his blades, taking a slow, deep breath. The pinkette felt a smirk twitch at the corners of her lips, and she just blinked once before lifting her sword across her chest in a fighter's slute. He didn't return the courtesy, focusing hard instead on watching her movements and they hadn't even started yet. The announcer continued.

"I don't know what to expect here myself. Both fighters appear to be formidable, but I guess we'll just have to see for ourselves!" He paused for effect, and to let the crowd's voices die down to murmurs and held breath. "Combatants, at the ready!" Claire stiffened, locking her eyes on to her opponent before she fell back in to her own light stance, waiting for the count down. Starting at five, she blocked out the crowd. All she bothered hearing was her own breathing and her heartbeat, pumping slowly, steadily, a fine constant to keep a cool head. She bent her knees a bit, balancing on the balls of her feet, ready to leap as soon as the countdown hit "One. Fight!"

The noise of the crowd returned but Claire didn't concern herself with her spectators, and rather paid attention to the Paddrean charing at her with two scimitars sweeping at her torso. He was fast, but Claire was much quicker, dancing away on light feet and testing the waters with a swipe to his upper arm. Asael deflected the blow with one of his bracers, but the look on his face told her everything she needed to know. Despite his lithe form and quick reflexes, she was faster. She stepped in, already bringing up her shield to block a slash aimed at her head, and ducked below the other, causing him to get tangled in stumbling forward.

Claire darted around him, bringing her sword up in a successful slash that cut through his vest like a hot knife through butter. Asael yelped as she rew blood from his side, and he spun around to try and kick her away. She knocked his leg aside by lifting her knee, and pain resgitered once more as his unarmored calf connected with her greaves. Farron knew this was her fight, yet still jumped back for space, starting to circle her injured opponent tentatively, cerulean orbs never leaving him as he dropped one of his scimitars to hold his side. He seemed unable to put weight on his left leg, and he was obviously getting frustrated with how the match was not at all turning out to be in his favor.

His next move was rather unexpected, the hand clutching his side whipping out. Spatters of the blood that had cupped in his hand fell flat as Claire had kept her distance, but the fireball coming her way nearly caught her. She spun out of the way on her toe, arching her back with the fluid movement and made a mental note that Sazh had worked miracles with this armor. Another fire spell lobbed her way, and another, a string of three following, and she jumped and spun and flipped out of the way of each one with a look of determination on her face, jaw tight and eyes iced.

"Things are not looking up for Asael! He's badly hurt and his barrage of fire spells are striking nothing but air as Claire dodges in an acrobatic style I've never seen before! She's closing in on him, and if he can't turn the tides quickly then I'm expecting this fight to end in favor of the Farron on the field!"

Asael was running out of juice. A bead of sweat slid down the side of his face, but he knew he had to move unless he was wanted it to end here. Claire saw it register in his eyes, and he started to charge another firespell in his palm but didn't release it, instead deciding to put on close range pressure and running at her head-on. The pinkette parried his wide-arcing blade, and gave him a sharp kick in his injured side before once more creating distance between herself and him, stepping back. Asael didn't seem to want to let her get away though, and with impressive resilience followed her movements the best he could. It would have been impressive, anyway, if it wasn't so foolish.

He brought his hand out, releasing the charged Firaga with a loud snarl. Claire grit her teeth, diving to the ground to avoid it. The flames licked at her armor, singing the feathers of her waist mantle and making the back of her neck incredibly hot but none of its burning effects actually struck her. Asael was caught unawares when she straightened up, stepping in with the motion underneath his arm. Her shield came around her body, and she spun, following through with the motion as the steel buckler connected with the side of his head, slamming the fighter to the ground as he dropped his second scimitar.

"And with that, Asael's out cold! Gran Pulsians, Cocoonians, Claire Farron is this match's victor! I've never seen anyone move so sharp, folks, so precisely and effective! She'll definitely be a fighter to look out for in the later rounds of the Tournament, the fighter quick as lightning!"

Lightning? Claire felt something in the back of her mind click as she stood in the center of the arena, listening to the rising chant of the word over and over again,"Lightning! Lightning!" Something about the nickname felt right, but she couldn't place why, exactly. It somehow seemed so familiar, and hearing it being said felt natural. Not one for theatrics though, she flicked her wrist, the movement ridding her sword of Asael's blood as a team of healers ran out to collect him. Claire - no, Lightning - took a pause, before bowing her head graciously, which only seemed to instigate even louder screams of pride from the Cocoonian spectators, and pure thrill from the Gran Pulsians. It seemed that even the royalty being able to fight was fascinating to not just Fang.

Lightning's gate opened when she turned towards it, and Hope was waiting excitedly with a broad smile spread across his face, he was pratically jumping up and down. Turned out he wasn't the only one waiting for her in the hall, though. For starters, there was the younger Farron, bow still in hand as she must have just completed her round of archery. Standing beside her was one of the castle guards, a brick wall of a man named Snow, and it was no mystery that he and the archer were in a relationship, his hand on her shoulder. It irked her to see him there, too, but for Serah's sake she'd keep her mouth shut, seeing as the blond was there to congratulate her,"Wow, that was incredible! I mean, you always fight like that in the training yard, but in an actual fight..." He shook his head, giving her a huge, goofy smile, making Serah giggle.

Light resisted the urge to roll her eyes at him, though they softened when her gaze found her sister again. Serah hugged her around the neck briefly, saying,"You did great, Claire!" before stepping back. She smiled down at her, saying,"Thank you, Serah. How did your round go?"

"She hit all three shots right on the mark, you should've seen it!" Snow stated proudly, slinging his arm instead around the shorter girl's shoulders, making Serah blush and smile like the true princess she was. Lightning shook her head, allowing a barely concealed smile to curve her lips before starting down the hall, the gate closing again as the four od them returned to the waiting area. Much to the elder Farron's surprise, however, when they rounded the corner there were other occupants.

Fang sat on the wooden bench in the middle of the room with Vanille by her side. The taller Oerban was sporting the same armor she'd been wearing when she and the pinkette met in the garden, and her double-bladed lance lay across her lap. The shorter of the two, however, leapt up and squealed,"We saw the whole fight, Princess!" Confused for a moment, Lightning wondered why on earth two Gran Pulsians would be happy a Cocoonian just beat another Gran Pulsian. Brushing it off however, she rested her hand over the hilt of her now sheathed blade, noding in acknowledgement, saying a polite,"Thank you."

Finally, Fang stood. The others in the room stilled as they stared each other down, everyone very aware of their little rivalry in the Tournament, but they weren;t in a match right now. The raven-haired Oerban chuckled, shaking her head. "You cleaned Asael out out there. Got yourself a new name too, yeah? Lightning." Hearing the name from Fang made an unfamiliar sensation roll up her back, and the armor clad Cocoonian swallowed. Extending her hand, Fang followed suit and the two of them clasped forearms, a friendly gesture. Lightning had been wrong about this woman in so many ways.

"Please, call me Light."

**A/N: **And there goes chapter five! Whew! I hope to make future chapters just as long. The previous ones just didn't seem to have enough in them to be proper chapters, so I decided to take a little more time with this one. Chapter six will be from Fang's point of view, so I look forward to writing that, and also hearing what you guys think of this segment.


	6. Chapter 6

**EDIT:** Realized all the horrendous spelling and grammatical errors so I had a friend comb over the story and help me clean it up a bit.

-x-x-x-

In turn, Fang had felt like she'd grossly underestimated the pink-haired warrior from when they met. As far as first impressions went, Lightning had veered off from hers and the Oerban was having a hard time seeing her in the same way. It was hard for her to think of her as a princess anymore, for starters. Fang's understanding of what a princess was had been flipped upside down when she'd seen that challenging look behind icy eyes that were, strangely, both somehow cold but at the same time pulled her in rather than scared her off.

Sparring with her had opened her own eyes even further, but the fun it brought with it had been far too exhilarating for her to simply pass it up. She found that teasing and trying to get under the monarch's skin became a sort of game, one that usually had her back-pedaling or being on the receiving end of a Farron death glare, but her time spent living in the castle with the other Gran Pulse knights wasn't time poorly spent at all.

Not to mention the chance to participate in the Tournament. Not many other Gran Pulsians knew about her status, despite being the captain of the dragoons, a military force really only used, or rather, trained in Oerba as the war hadn't exactly broken out yet, and she really hoped it would stay that way. It gave her a bit of an edge as other warriors didn't traditionally use a lance as unique as hers. If she'd be fighting people from her own kingdom in the tournament, they'd be in for a surprise. As if her strength wasn't enough, she was just as powerful as any man.

And now, the raven-haired woman was relaxing. After the first rounds of the Tournament had ended, after she'd won her fight and then Light had won hers, they'd stayed behind to watch other battles, only a few left for the day. The two women had changed back in to their casual attire, and found a spot in the spectator bleachers together. She found it odd that a princess would be allowed to be in a crowd of commoners without any guard of any sort, but noting the sword on her hip and recognizing the cool aura about her, Fang decided people simply knew not to mess with the pinkette.

While Fang sat forward in her seat, grinning and eagerly eating up every match, spectating with excited eyes and itching to participate, suddenly unable to wait for tomorrow's match-ups, she'd glance over now and then and see Lightning in the same spot. She had one leg crossed over the other and her arms folded across her chest, sitting up straight and those azure eyes sharply watching every move in the fight below. She'd applaud politely at the end of each match but aside from that made no indication of who she'd been favouring during the actual fight. The princess was a silent viewer, it seemed, making Fang purse her lips.

In the middle of the last fight for the day, the tanned Oerban decided to try and get a civil conversation out of her. Verde eyes followed the smaller of the two combatants currently in the ring, who was significantly less tired than his larger opponent, the commentator's voice ringing out through the stadium amongst the roar of the crowd. She had to shout to get the woman sitting just beside her to hear her.

"What do you think of Jun? His attacks are pretty powerful but he can barely land a hit!"

Lightning shifted, being pulled out of whatever reverie she'd been in. She didn't look away, but casually leaned closer to reply,"Kaxton is too quick for him. They'll tire each other out soon enough though, but I think you're right. Jun's movements are too heavy and he leaves himself open for too long after every attempt." Spoken like a true warrior, Fang had to give her credit. Even though she was a princess... She shook the thought from her head. It really didn't matter anymore, her birthright had not nearly as significant an affect on her personality as she'd initially thought it should. Fang grinned at her, glad they were finally talking to each other, not _at_ each other.

Light must have felt her staring, something she didn't realized she was doing until the pale fighter turned her head and met her gaze. The both of them blinked in mild surprise, and Lightning arched a brow at her, reaching up and scratching the back of her neck lightly while asking,"What?" She frowned, and Fang shifted a bit uncomfortably in her spot, clearing her throat.

"I was just a bit shocked you'd picked up on all that, that's all..." she reasoned, which granted her a roll of the eyes and a shake of the head. But she could've sworn she saw a twitch at the corner of her lips as Lightning turned her head back to continue watching the fight.

After it was over and the next event began to get set-up, the sun was starting to set and the lanterns were starting to get lit. Lightning stood first, sighing,"We'd better head back soon." Fang nodded her head once in agreement, something oddly familiar in the way she followed the shorter of the two down from the spectator seats and out of the coliseum. Instead of going for the path that would take them back to the castle, however, Lightning started to lead the way towards the town square and the marketplace that would be no doubt bustling even at this hour. The festivities had officially begun that day, of course, so the streets were decorated with lights and coloured papers and were lined with karts and vendors and stalls from all over, selling rarities and trinkets and other miscellaneous items.

Some of the stalls were more eye-catching than others, of course, some salesmen shouting on top of boxes for people to come and see their wares or try their product, but what piqued Fang's interest the most was a woman that appeared to be wearing a very revealing red chocobo-styled costume, and speaking both loudly and excitedly about how you couldn't find things like what she had to sell anywhere else.

She found her body turning even as she walked to gawk at all the hustle and bustle, and didn't notice when Light had stopped, bumping in to the woman's back with a light 'oof'. Fang frowned, whirling around to see why she'd halted, and found the reason quickly enough. The pinkette gestured once she'd had her attention, asking,"Shall we go in?" Blinking slowly once in surprise, Fang had to process the question as if she'd never been asked it before. They were simply standing outside an open-front bar, already busy with both foreigners and locals alike, drinking and eating and having a generally good time as barmaids dressed in skimpy outfits went around with trays serving any and all who paid for their service.

"You wanna go in _there_?" Fang asked, and clearly the shock written across her face was enough to elicit a single chuckle from the princess.

"Yes. I figure after a busy day like today you'd like to unwind. Besides, it'll be better than eating in the mess back at the castle."

Fang had to agree with her there, and the two went up the two long wooden steps that took up the open front of the structure. Glasses clinked and voices rose up around them as they made their way in to the bar before they found two seats at the counter. Fang watched as Lightning waved the bartender over, a brunette with short hair and a rather unique selection of clothing, a purple leathered cincher overtop a barely buttoned up white cotton shirt, a short, draping white skirt, and Fang couldn't properly see from her seat but she could've sworn she saw the lace of thigh-high stockings peeking up at her.

"Busy night, Lebreau?" the pinkette asked casually, and the bartender laughed,"And this is just the beginning!" Lightning nodded in understanding, giving her a sympathetic look before saying,"I'll take a glass of whatever's good on tap." Lebreau nodded before looking at Fang, obviously taking in her exotic appearance. Fang realized that amongst a bunch of Cocoonians she must stick out like a sore thumb, in her tribal clothes and with her wild hair, the beads she wore and her darker skin. Not that she minded, she felt that they had some actual culture in Gran Pulse whereas in Cocoon everything had to be a certain way.

Lebreau hesitated a moment, opening her mouth before flashing a look Lightning's way then back to her. "And ah, for your... friend?" she asked, and Fang straightened up a bit, folding her arms overtop each other on top of the counter. The huntress then gave her a bemused smirk, saying with a lazy gesture of her hand,"What she's having."

Lebreau left to fetch them their drinks and it was Lightning's turn to look her way. Fang felt a strange jolt shoot up her spine when she felt her gaze, but forced herself to relax before turning her own on the princess. She wasn't prepared for the calm, relaxed look on the otherwise stoic woman's face, and to be honest it rattled away any of her previous thoughts. Now, there was no doubt that the pinkette was beautiful. As a matter of fact, her looks had been one of the first things that had drawn her to her when she'd first spotted her in the garden. The porcelain skin, seemingly flawless no matter how you looked at it, the champagne-coloured tresses styled in such a different way but it somehow just fit her, and the sharp cornflower-blue orbs.

She was dangerously gorgeous, from the calculated way she carried herself to the subtle tones in her voice whenever she spoke and how she handled things. Always sharp and to the point. Right then though, Lightning was still Lightning but had let something slip, had let one of many walls come down, Fang could see it. Maybe it was just the excitement and exhaustion of the day, but she saw the difference and it made her breath catch in her throat.

It was Fang's turn to ask "What?" while she frowned, brow furrowing slightly as a hand went up to touch her cheek. "Have I got something on my face?" Lightning said thanks as their drinks were set down in front of them, reaching for her own glass mug of some sort of grain ale. She shook her head, replying evenly,"No, nothing," before the pinkette took a sip. Fang's frown deepened, and she took up her own mug, sniffing at the contents before tasting it. She sighed, licking her lips and settled a little more in to her seat.

It was kind of hard to ignore the awkward silence that slowly grew between them as they drank side by side. Without having a fight to watch, they'd lost any topic of conversation they might've had a shot at. It was only when Fang was halfway through her drink did she ask,"So, what does a princess do for fun anyhow?"

Light set her mug down and gave her a curious look, pausing a moment or two before opening her mouth.

"When I'm not training, I'll read a good book somewhere in the castle. Sometimes I come down here, to the Square, or go through the marketplace when it's busy. Every now and then I'll take my horse out for a ride just outside the city."

Fang scoffed.

"A horse? What, you Cocoonians too fancy for Chocobos or something?"

"I dunno, I hear dragons make for some pretty interesting rides," she countered, catching Fang off guard.

"Who told you that? Vanille..." the Gran Pulsian grumbled, pouting slightly before taking another mouthful from her mug. Wiping her mouth on the back of her hand, she questioned,"So, you ever been on one before?"

"What, a dragon? Never. A chocobo though... once or twice. There are still a few flocks but they're mostly on the Pulse side. They rarely come over here anymore during their migrations."

Fang noted the flicker of disappointment on the princess's face, but was more concerned with quickly correcting her,"_Gran_ Pulse."

That drew an unamused stare from Lightning but Fang just laughed, finishing her glass before her. She was just starting to feel the warming effects of the alcohol moving through her system, and reached for a small handful of assorted nuts from a bowl on top of the bar. Popping a few in to her mouth, she chewed while crossing one leg over the other, causing the fabric of her sari to slide up her thigh a little higher. Now Fang was sure she wasn't crazy, and she hadn't drank that much, but she could've sworn she'd seen Light look down at the movement.

When Fang looked up to confirm this, the pinkette was just in the middle of tipping the rest of her glass's contents in to her mouth, so she wrote it off as just imagining things. Still, she felt a little self conscious and casually pulled the fabric of the sari back down a little more on her thigh, hoping to keep it there and not exposing as much leg, though she was a bit curious as to why she suddenly cared if the other woman was looking at her or not. They ordered a second round of drinks together along with some bread to share, lapsing in to relaying to each other how their fights had gone even though she'd watched Lightning's, and had been genuinely impressed with her skills and adaptability, along with the effectiveness of her acrobatics and how she'd even managed to pull it off in that armour.

Fang told her all of this. Lightning took each compliment in stride, nodding her head and thanking her, though it was obvious she must've been used to the praise for her abilities. Coming from an outsider though it must've been different, like she'd been expecting it but not like this. Not over drinks with a Gran Pulsian anyway. This filled Fang with a smug sense of satisfaction, smirk finding its way to her lips as she downed her second glass, again before the pinkette who had stopped with it a third of the way full, fiddling with the mug's handle. Fidgeting seemed so unlike her.

"Tell you what," Fang said, dusting crumbs from their bread off of her lap,"Let's get out of here. Check out some more of the festival, then head back to the castle. It's been a long day and we have tomorrow to think about, after all." The eldest Farron sister nodded her head in agreement, blowing out a short sigh before getting up from her seat, reaching for the pouch on her belt and leaving sufficient payment on the bar counter. The two left the bar by each other's side, something Fang found she quite liked. It was companionable, rather than tense, and she didn't feel like Lightning was trying to get rid of her. Not that she'd go either way.

It was Fang's turn to lead, taking Lightning's wrist in her grasp as to pull her through the building crowd of people. Much to her surprise again that night, the princess didn't pull her arm away. She couldn't quite place it, but Fang felt as if there was something mutual in the hold. Like how her hand had gone to her had been reflex, as if she'd been doing this her entire life with her. Like it was normal for a Gran Pulse knight to guide a Cocoonian princess through a crowd. Thankfully, everyone was too busy with the festivities to look their way twice.

They stopped and got some sort of odd skewered meat to share and watched a few performers in the street while they ate, before Fang was soon following the sound of music piercing through the bustle of people and a voice with obvious purpose singing above the rest. She cocked her head to the side, immediately recognizing the old Gran Pulsian language strung together in poetic lyrics that would probably not be understood by anyone listening. The different drums decorated with bright fabrics and feathers had percussionists sporting tribal wear similar to Fang's but they'd taken it one step further in painting their bodies with different colors, stripes on their faces and marks on their arms. She couldn't get a good look at their hands as they were blurred with their drumming.

The familiar music filled her with glee, and Fang found something endearing in Lightning's reaction in watching the performance. She was both perplexed and bewildered but obviously intrigued beyond measure, and the music had its usual contagious effect. Turned out Farron had a good sense of rhythm, tapping a foot to the beat, whereas Fang swayed her hips in time with each measure. "Taejin music!" the raven-haired woman shouted, and added a bit more sway in to her step and bumped Light's hip with her own, winking.

"You Cocoon folk dance?"

Fang took pleasure in how the shorter of the two reacted, seeing her stop tapping her foot and shoot a glare her way. She folded her arms across her chest and huffed, hunching her shoulders tensely for a moment as her jaw locked, very close to downright scowling at her. "Of course we don't, not to this kind of noise. It'd be a waste of time," she said, but it only made Fang's smile broaden.

"That's rich coming from the woman who dances when she fights," she laughed, and moved to stand in front of her. It was only Gran Pulsians dancing to the music, of course, being the only ones to recognize it and actually appreciate it rather than call it noise as Lightning had. They gave a loud cheer as another faster song started up, and Fang put her hands on her hips, leaning in closer to the princess and her smirk turned sly. She knew it irked Light when she did that, and so she gave the final push,"I bet you wouldn't know how to move to this music at all." There it was. That hot flash behind cold eyes she'd come to recognize as her taking the bait.

When Fang stepped back and extended a hand to her, it was met with a firm grasp as she accepted not only her hold, but her challenge. There was something glorious about winning in some small part against her, but to be fair to her, Fang wordlessly took the leading role in their dance. The drums were meant for heavy steps but carefree movements, so there was not much to lead with, but the sway of the music and the bump of the beat were almost enough of a guide on their own. Lightning caught on quick, following Fang's movements with hers. A good way for a fighter to pick up good footwork and balance was through dance, after all. Fang just appreciated the effect the activity had on the princess.

The heat of the dancing bodies around them, and their own temperatures rising from joining in, caused paler skin to flush quickly enough, aided slightly by the drinks they'd had earlier that night. The sun had long since set and both lanterns and the moon lit up the city with ease. The Oerban didn't miss a single detail as she watched the Cocoonian's movements. She'd fallen in to the same sort of rhythm that she got in to when she was fighting, only this time it had actual music to follow. Her hips shifted and her feet stepped precisely, torso turning and arms lifting just enough that Fang could still hold both of her hands. They moved about one another, as if circling in a sparring match but much closer, much more intimately than intended. Noticing this, they both moved back away from each other and the result was extending their arms to one another.

It was Lightning's turn, it seemed. Fang felt a pull on one hand and her other was lifted high, and she found herself being twirled. She laughed, spinning in to the pinkette, but they stopped as the song came to an end and the two women found themselves frozen on the spot upon realization of their new position. Fang could feel the warmth of Lightning's front pressed against her back, and she very much enjoyed how she just seemed to fit against her. Her own arms were folded over her front, but hers and Light's hands were still holding one another, in a way drawing the pinkette's hold halfway around her.

Fang turned her head and her verde gaze found their way to pleasantly surprised cornflower blues, and just as another song started up they broke apart. Fang tried to ignore the hammering in her chest, blaming the racing heart inside on the strain of dancing so recklessly after such a wild, eventful day. The huntress swallowed thickly, trying incredibly hard to push the new memory of having the princess against her back, feeling the strength in her frame but also the grace and elegancy, out of her mind. It was impossible, and she swayed a little on her feet, suddenly dizzy. Wait now... That did not just happen. Oerba Yun Fang did _not_ just swoon for a viper.

Clearing her throat loudly then, she said,"We should start heading back now." Lightning nodded silently in agreement, a thoughtful but slightly troubled look on her face tainting her beautiful features- _behave_, Fang.

Rather than awkward silence, it was comfortable during the stroll back to the castle. Listening to the rustling of the leaves the light evening winds caused, the fading sounds of the festivities they were leaving behind, Fang had more time to relax and try and not think about the woman walking closely next to her. Or was she the one walking closely next to Lightning? Maybe she was, maybe she wasn't, but still, when they stopped she found herself standing at Lightning's bedroom door. The princess was gazing at her intently, as if trying to figure out a difficult puzzle, and remained doing so for a minute, a half hour, maybe an entire week for all Fang cared, too perplexed and awed by the intensity in those eyes.

"I will see you tomorrow then, Fang." Lightning's voice pulled her out from whatever spell she'd fallen underneath, and Fang blinked, realizing just how closely they were standing to each other now. Almost less than a foot of distance between them, she again couldn't tell who was leaning closer to whom. She glanced down at Light's lips, watching her mouth move as she continued to speak, voice a soft whisper. "Thank you for keeping me company. Goodnight." Fang was sure Lightning could hear the sharp breath she sucked in. There was no denying the magnetic pull she felt towards her, this attraction that had been building from the day they'd met. The question was though, would she act on it? _Could_ she act on it? Especially when the other woman didn't seem to mirror her feelings in any way at all.

"Goodnight," Fang replied before she licked her lips, mouth suddenly dry as she tilted her head carefully one way. She didn't let her eyes be torn away as she noted in her peripheral vision Lightning placing a hand on her door handle but simply resting it there, making no move to open it quite yet. One heartbeat. Two heartbeats. Five more and they were still remaining motionless, as if they were paralyzed by one another's gaze, emerald locked with azure. Finally, Fang took one step backwards and it seemed to break them out of their trances. What on earth was going on with her right now?

The last glimpse she got of Lightning's face, all she could tell was that the princess seemed somewhat disappointed? She didn't get a very good look, as the strawberry-haired beauty disappeared in to her room, shutting the door behind herself and leaving Fang alone in the dimly lit hallway with nothing but her own thoughts and confusions. Fang stalked off to the barracks that had been prepared for the Gran Pulsians, and was greeted to the room by the sound of snoring, a few men still up playing some game quietly at a small table by candle light, and Vanille curled up on the upper bed of their shared bunk.

Fang sighed quietly to herself, nodding her acknowledgement to the men still up before walking over to the bunk and kicking off her sandals. Unbuckling her belt, she shrugged off her sari and allowed the wrap to come undone, folding it up neatly as she sat on the lower bunk stripped down to her black half tank top and a pair of short black shorts. She'd just laid back, cupping her hands together behind her head when a messy orange haired head swung down from the upper bunk. Vanille gazed at her with bright, curious eyes.

Fang groaned in protest, rolling over so her back was to the healer just as she started to say,"Tell me everything."

"Can't hear you, 'Nille. I'm asleep," the older Oerban mumbled in to her pillow, pulling her blanket up over her head. She felt the mattress sink slightly as Vanille climbed down in to the bunk with her, speaking in hushed tones so as to not wake up the others or bother the men at the table across the room. "Come on, how'd it go with the princess?"

The dragoon captain heaved a heavy sigh, lowering the blanket and propping herself up on her elbows, giving Vanille a tired, unamused look but it was quickly wiped away by the giddiness that rose up inside of her at remembering the night's events. There was no denying the bliss in her wistful sigh,"It went wonderfully."


End file.
